


Inùdoy

by EverTheViper



Series: Tales of a Gilded Lion [3]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-15 12:06:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3446558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EverTheViper/pseuds/EverTheViper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fíli's coronation from Dreams of Gold from Dís' point of view. </p><p>This would be about when she figures out the nature of her son's relationship with Thranduil and Bard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inùdoy

♔

Dís stands watching as Dáin replaces the circlet on his fair brow with a beautiful crown of silver set with rubies red as blood. There's no denying the crown's beauty, but even still Fíli's decision to wear this instead of the crown his great-grandfather wore struck a nerve. She knows Dáin and the others see it as an insult to Thrór, and that her son doesn't care for their opinions. If he is to be burdened with a crown let it be one of his own choosing. She will not force him to do any he does not want to do. He deserves better than that.

They d e s e r v e d better.

She could see how shaken her son is in the set of his shoulder, and in the way he holds himself. The boy looks like he's halfway to falling when Dáin lays the crown upon his golden head. Beside her she feels the human, Bard, she'd heard him called, tense as if something bothers him, as if he means to move forward to her son. She glances up at him and she'd be a fool to not notice the emotions that war across his face. A young girl at his side keeps him back and in his place. Dís knows that this is the man who's been helping her son with his grief, the man who'd held him as he cried for his brother and uncle, and she means to thank him when she can.

She o w e s him that much.

When Dáin descends the stairs his fierce brown gaze meets his cousin's startling blue for a brief moment. He gives her a nod before moving to take his place at the side of the throne. She turns her gaze now to her son, standing proud as a lion upon the dais, hands trembling at his side, and no matter how he tries to hide it she can see the fear in his eyes. Dís's heart aches for her boy who had to grow up too fast, who had to become king before he was ready. How is he supposed to rule without Thorin's guidance and Kíli's optimism?

It's not f a i r to him. 

The ceremony ends when the king sits upon his throne once more, the very mountain trembling from the force of the cheering and stamping. Next to her Bard and Thranduil move forward as one. They both pause at the foot of the stairs, two sets of eyes, one chocolate, one blue, are on her son. "Come join the festivities, Fíli, the people want their King." Thranduil holds out a slim hand to her son, the enthusiasm Fíli shows when he rises from the throne and descends the stairs to get to his fellow kings surprises her. He disappears between them, and Dís smiles when she hears him laugh for the first time since they were reunited. 

The sound brings her j o y.

Dís lingers long enough to see her son pulled into the human king's arms for a lingering hug and a kiss upon his fair brow. The raven-haired dwarrowdam doesn't question it, she understands that Fíli needs his support through this trying time, but what surprises her more than her lion's bond with the human is his bond with the Elven-King. She watches as her son breaks away from the dark-haired man and spins around to throw his arms around Thranduil's waist. She's thankful for the party and the distraction it provides for if anyone else had seen this it would be a scandal.

Fíli doesn't n e e d that right now.

♔

In the privacy of her rooms she allows her grief to show in the form of heaving sobs and hot tears. She is home once more but at the cost of her brother and son's lives. Who would ever want that? How is she supposed to go on after a loss such as this? Her baby, her little boy, her inùdoy is gone. Her brother, her beloved brother, her last brother is dead and buried down in that cold tomb. She longs for another moment with him, another press of foreheads, another kiss upon her brow. She cries for her brother and her son, her beautiful son who was dark of hair and eyes, and shone with the vibrancy of a thousand suns. 

Mahal why h i m? Why t h e m?

She steels herself at the sound of a knock on the door, she takes a moment longer to wipe her eyes before she calls out to the person on the other side of the door. Dwalin steps in as she's turning around and she manages a small smile for him. "Ya don't have t' put up a front fer me, Dís. I know exactly how ya feel, darlin'." Dís moves forward and throws her arms around him, clinging to his larger frame as her sobs begin anew. "I-I am trying to hold it together, Dwalin, but it /hurts/ so much. Why did my baby have to die? Why him?" Dwalin holds her through it but he never answers her question. How can he? "Ya got to be strong, Dís. Ya made it through Frerin's loss and Víli's, ya can do this."

She must be s t r o n g, she m u s t.

She must be s t r o n g for Fíli and for their people and for h e r s e l f.


End file.
